


it's hard to lose a chosen one

by RainbowRandomness



Series: once and future love [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, M/M, Modern Era, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-26
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 02:35:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3233075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowRandomness/pseuds/RainbowRandomness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin, who has waited thousands of years by the shores of Avalon for Arthur’s return, is willing to wait as long as it takes for him to return.</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's hard to lose a chosen one

**Author's Note:**

> prompt found [here](http://mamalaz.tumblr.com/post/108558090076/modern-merlin-au-merlin-who-has-waited-thousands)
> 
> I'm a sucker for these gifsets okay. 
> 
> This could probably be read as a prequel to _[I hope that heaven is your resting place](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2729339) _ but does not necessarily have to be read for either fics to make sense, ya feel? Anyway, enjoy.
> 
> Title from _Elastic Heart_ by Sia

Here he was again, as he was most days. It was hardly surprising really, how often he stood at the shores of Avalon and looked out towards the Isle of the Blessed, fog forever lapping at the edge of the small island and around the tower situated atop it. He was here most days, staring out at the grey water covered by fog, wondering when the day would come that Arthur would return to him.

So many people had been laid to rest here, so many people that he cared for dead and lying in this very lake. The first person he laid to rest here was Freya after she died in his arm. He had dressed her in one of Morgana’s gowns and laid her body upon a boat dressed with flowers before he had sent her out onto the lake. Tears had stung his eyes as he had set fire to the boat and her body, allowing her to spirit to become one with the lake and become its protector.

The next to die here was Lancelot, a shadow of himself reincarnated by Morgana to ruin Arthur and Gwen which would allow Camelot to fall. Merlin would always remember freeing Lancelot of his shadow self and seeing the real him look up towards him and have recognition flicker in his eyes as he thanked Merlin. It hurt him so deeply to have had to see his friend die once before being used as a puppet, only to have him die again. At least he had gotten to say goodbye and give him a proper burial the second time.

The third to be buried at the Lake of Avalon was Gwen’s brother, Elyan. After dying while saving Gwen from the horrors of the Dark Tower, the knights returned him to Camelot to give him a proper burial. Merlin remembers watching as his body sailed down the river towards Avalon, the boat in flames as he slowly sailed away from them.

The last to die at Avalon was Arthur. Arthur, who was to unite Albion and had died far too young, poison running through his veins and stopping his heart as he thanked Merlin for the first and last time.

Merlin closes his eyes, squeezing them shut against the flood of memories. Some were more painful than others, but memories of Arthur were always the hardest to deal with. Remembering Arthur’s death and how he had felt his king grow limp within his arms, his blue eyes fading until he saw nothing at all, was a memory that tortured Merlin each time he thought of it. The memory plagued his dreams and made them nightmares that would leave him screaming and sobbing and would haunt him in his waking hours, leaving bruises beneath his eyes and a downward curve to his lips.

So many years he had been coming here and staring out across the waters, waiting for something to suggest that his king would come back to him. So many years he had stood here in so many lifetimes, everything around him changing from the people to the style of clothes, to buildings that had risen and fallen, to wars that had started and passed by and so much more.

So much had happened in the world and Merlin wondered each time when Arthur would return, when he would see him again. So much time had passed that Merlin had given up counting long ago but his mind never failed to trick him into seeing Arthur’s face whenever he could. He would see Arthur’s face on that of another king, on a genius or a traitor, his face appearing on so many soldiers as they readied themselves for war. Sometimes he would see him in the reflection of shop window, see him round the corner of a Victorian street, or maybe he was the one dancing with that girl in the bar from a time Merlin could no longer remember.

So many times he had mistaken someone for Arthur and each time it was a blow to his heart when the person turned and revealed another face, another person, a stranger Merlin didn’t know.

It was in moments like those that Merlin remembered the last conversation he had had with Kilgharrah before the great dragon had died. He had been standing at the shore of Avalon, as he was now, staring out towards the island in the distance and trying to forget the disappointment after thinking he had seen his kings face on that of a gambler at the tavern.

“ _How much longer do you plan on waiting here, young warlock?_ ” he had asked, his eyes sunken and voice creakier, giving away how long he had lived. He was still a great dragon and yet so old, nearing the end of his time, the last of his kind.

Merlin says now what he had said then, his eyes glancing over to where Kilgharrah had once stood before he died as he replies to a long dead ghost.

“As long as it takes Kilgharrah,” he says to himself, turning back to look across the water, “As long as it takes.”

**Author's Note:**

> come follow me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/RainbowRandoms) and [tumblr](http://rainbow-randomness.tumblr.com/)


End file.
